


Public Indecency

by unrealkinkster (criticalkink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Cop Fetish, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-10-17 12:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17560499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criticalkink/pseuds/unrealkinkster
Summary: Liam should never have mentioned the damn police incident on AWNP, because he knows Sam filed it away in the NSFW part of his brain, and so now he’s here running lines (from Kindergarten Cop, because he is an asshole), pacing back and forth until a strong hand clamps down on his shoulder from behind.





	Public Indecency

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the kmeme [here](https://criticalkink.dreamwidth.org/1777.html?thread=795633#cmt795633).

Liam should never have mentioned the damn police incident on AWNP, because he knows Sam filed it away in the NSFW part of his brain, and so now he’s here running lines (from  _Kindergarten Cop_ , because he is an asshole), pacing back and forth until a strong hand clamps down on his shoulder from behind.  
  
“Sir, we’ve had a call about a person engaging in suspicious behavior in this neighborhood. Mind showing me what you’ve got there in your hand?”  
  
“It’s just my phone,” Liam says defensively. “I’m an actor, I have an audition—”  
  
“Sure. Sure.” The hand that runs down his arm and relieves him of his phone is familiar, but the touch is somehow impersonal. “Just step this way for a moment.”  
  
“Really? I—” The air escapes Liam’s lungs in a whoosh as he’s pushed face down over the hood of a car. The surface is warm but not uncomfortably so; Liam notes that Sam’s draped something over it, possibly a poncho, but he doesn’t have time to examine it before he’s bent over, face pressed against warm rough fabric. “What—”  
  
“Just a quick frisk. It’s standard procedure.”  
  
“It was just my  _phone_!”  
  
“That doesn’t mean you’re not concealing any other weaponry, and it’s my job to keep this neighborhood safe.”   
  
His sides and ass get a rudimentary pat down, although a little more lingering than any he’s experienced before. Solid hands check his ankles, his calves, his knees, and then work in between his denim-clad thighs. Then one hand is on his ass again, squeezing, and the other is overtly groping at the front of his jeans. Liam feels an embarrassed, angry flush rise to his cheeks.  
  
‘Is—is this really necessary?”  
  
Sam expertly strokes his cock, palm rubbing and fingers curling. “Feels necessary to me.”  
  
“Officer, please, this isn’t appropriate—”  
  
Sam chuckles at the honorific, but his hand does at last stop its far too intimate search. He takes a step back and Liam moves his feet, about to straighten up when he feels something close around one wrist. It’s thick padded leather rather than metal and so the thought of handcuffs doesn’t enter his head immediately. When Sam pulls the second cuff snug around his other wrist, that’s when it comes together, and Liam tries to tug his hand away.  
  
“Just be calm, this is standard procedure,” Sam says again, clipping the cuffs together. Liam tests them with a loud rattle of the short chain, adrenaline rushing through his system. He’s trapped and at Sam’s mercy, but even in the midst of this quite different for them scene, Sam has taken care to make the cuffs comfortable and give Liam a modicum of freedom of movement.  
  
Not that he’s terribly focused on that; the  _at Sam’s mercy_  part is foremost in his mind.  
  
When he turns his head he can see the crisply ironed blue cotton of Sam’s shirt and the triangular emblem at one shoulder. It’s not a perfect imitation (although of the things they could be arrested for, impersonating a police officer is probably quite low on the list), but from the moment that Sam’s hand first clamped onto his shoulder, it’s been  _extremely_  sufficient. Apart from anything else, they have more than enough imagination between them to bring the scenario to life.  
  
He tries to straighten up again now the cuffs are on, but Sam’s hand lands between his shoulderblades, pushing him back down.  
  
“Please stay put, sir. I have to be absolutely certain you’re not a threat.”  
  
“This is ridiculous,” Liam protests, and Sam  _kicks_  his feet apart this time, if Liam weren’t already pinned to the hood of the car he’d  _collapse_ , then Sam’s groin is pressed tight against his ass and  _fuck_  he’s hard, rolling his hips to draw a cry out of Liam that is not entirely one of protest.  
  
“Do you want me to arrest you for obstructing an officer in the course of his duty?” Sam growls, bent over Liam’s body to say it right by his ear. “You need to cooperate, sir, or I’m going to have to make you comply.” And there’s the prod of something  _else_  long and hard against his ass, a surprise accessory.  
  
“You’re going to beat me with a baton for running fucking lines for a fucking audition? You’re crazy.”  
  
Sam whaps his hip with the baton just hard enough to establish that it’s not a baton but something with a little more give to it. Liam’s heart rate increases exponentially and a low moan escapes him, his hips shifting.  
  
“Well, look at this.” Sam’s hand strokes down Liam’s spine to cup his ass. “Are you getting  _horny_? Is that what being treated this way does to you?” Liam hears the smirk in his voice. “I guess I’ll be adding soliciting an officer to the charges.”  
  
“What? I haven’t offered you  _shit_!”  
  
“Really?” Sam slides his hand between Liam’s legs, rubbing along his cleft. “You’re face down ass up over the hood of my squad car, wearing jeans that look painted on. Seems like an offering to me.”  
  
“You put me here, you asshole!”  
  
“That’s enough profanity,” Sam says, which  _nearly_  sets Liam off, the fussy way he says it, but then Sam’s pulling him to his feet by the cuffs. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you. Turn around.”  
  
“Wh—”  
  
“Turn  _around_ ,” Sam repeats less patiently, yanking on the cuffs. Liam stumbles and Sam catches him; then they’re face to face and Liam can drink in the whole picture. This man is far from his smiling Sammy; with his scruffy beard and stony eyes above his uniform, this is a cop who got called to investigate what turned out to be some yahoo waving a cell phone around and decided to take advantage of the private area to have a little fun off the record.  
  
That’s all Liam has time to think—that and how embarrassingly  _hot_  the scene has turned out to be—before Sam’s hand is on the top of his head, pushing down the way they’ve seen people be pushed down into patrol cars on every cop show, except that instead of into the backseat of the car he’s going to his knees on the pavement, masked from the world by the car, and there’s a rush of blood to his cheeks and his groin at the treatment.  
  
Then Sam tugs his head back by the hair and with a tug of his zipper he’s guiding his cock out of his blue uniform pants and nudging the head against Liam’s shock-parted lips.  
  
“You can’t be serious,” Liam says, attempting to keep his teeth together while he speaks and failing. He can already taste Sam on his lips and it’s hard to hold back from just opening up and taking him in.  
  
“Shut up.” Sam pushes his thumb into Liam’s mouth. Liam nips him. Sam just shakes his head. “Open.”  
  
“Or?”  
  
“Or I summon an eagle to fly you to freedom, pat you on the head, and let you go. What do you  _think_?” He glances down to where the baton is back in its holster at his hip. “There are worse things I could put in your mouth.”  
  
Liam glares up at him, but lets his jaw relax, Sam’s thumb readily levering his mouth open. Sam moves fast; his cock is sheathed in Liam’s mouth within moments, a low filthy groan escaping him as the head pushes into Liam’s throat. Liam manages a quick deep inhale through his nose before Sam starts fucking his mouth, using him carelessly, gripping Liam’s hair.  
  
“ _Fuck_  yeah,” Sam says with a grunt of effort, planting his other hand on the hood of the car, caging Liam in. “That’s it, don’t move, don’t you fucking  _move_...”  
  
It’s rough. It’s visceral. It’s  _incredible_.  
  
They aren’t exactly new to a little roughness, a little kink, a little PDA when they can get away with it. Throwing all the ingredients together and shaking them up has elevated this to a heady new level of desire.  
  
Liam barely notices the slight strain on his shoulders. He’s utterly focused on the moans and curses emanating from Sam’s mouth, and the relentless reckless thrusts into  _his_  mouth. Sam  _could_  be playing this up as much as anything else, but it doesn’t feel like he is. It feels  _real_.  
  
“I think you were waiting for something like this,” Sam says, voice strained. “Why else would you be out here doing dumb shit, if it wasn’t for attention?”  
  
“Hhhh,” Liam chokes out around Sam’s length.  
  
“Any attention’s good attention for miscreants like you.”  
  
Liam snorts saliva out of his nose and starts coughing laughter. Sam pulls out of his mouth and goes to one knee, watching Liam’s face go red until Liam can breathe again. There’s the edge of a smile on his face, but it is a sharp smile.

“All right, get up,” Sam says. “I don’t want your vomit on me.” He hauls Liam to his feet and turns him around. Sam doesn’t need to kick his feet apart this time; he’s already there. The intrusive groping is single-minded, Sam wrangling his jeans and boxers down with an intimate squeeze of his cock on the way. Liam hears a holster unclasp and the sudden shock of slick lube lavishly trickling down his cleft.  
  
“Aaaah.” Sam’s fingers spread him and find the base of the thick plug. “What have we got here?” He turns it, slips it out a little, teases Liam with a couple of quick thrusts against his prostate. “Was this meant to convince me you  _weren’t_  out here to get fucked?” He drives it in again and Liam moans. “I think we can definitely add solicitation to this list of charges.”  
  
“Listen, Officer... just do whatever you want and let me go.”  
  
“ _Whatever_  I want?”  
  
Shit. His smile is even sharper, and Liam can only barely see his face in the dim light.  
  
“Yes,” he says helplessly, because he knows his Sammy won’t do anything too far, and because he wants to know how far Officer Riegel will go.   
  
“ _Well_.” Liam feels the plug pull out of him, leaving him open and  _wanting_ , and then the tear of a condom packet opening, which is weird because they quit using those ages ago. Maybe Sam’s avoiding making a mess of him?  
  
When the cool rounded head of something more solid than Sam’s cock but still with some flexibility presses against him, the realization that Sam has remembered basic safe sex practices when it comes to using toys is but a fleeting second’s thought next to the realization that Sam’s pushing the long slender length of the—the definitely  _not_  a baton inside of him.  
  
“You have the right to remain silent,” Sam whispers, leaning down over his back, and then his hand is across Liam’s mouth as he begins to slowly fuck Liam with the black dildo.  
  
It’s lucky he put his hand there; right or no right, silence isn’t an option. Liam squirms and whimpers as Sam works on him, the slow deliberate strokes only making it more unbearable. His eyes dart frantically around but there’s nobody in the area; still, the thought of being caught has him attempting to push back against the rocking thrusts, hoping that maybe if he comes on it (if that’s what Sam wants— _is_  it what he wants? The rough panting breaths in Liam’s ear suggest that maybe it is) he’ll be free to go with a warning before someone catches him like this.  
  
“Good to see you’re not trying to resist.” Sam’s voice is silky-smooth in contrast to his heavy breathing. “You have the right to come like this. If you choose to give up that right, I can’t promise you’re going to come at all.”  
  
Normally he’d need more, but with his cock trapped between his belly and the hood of the car, plus the relentless steady strokes of the baton (and he can’t help but think of it that way, as an improvised instrument of pleasure instead of the no doubt carefully selected toy that it is), plus Officer Riegel’s warning as his solid body pins Liam over the hood of the car, it’s going to be enough, it’s  _got_  to be—  
  
Sam buries the baton in him right down to the crossbar and Liam  _wails_  against Sam’s palm, cock twitching and jerking, spreading come over his belly and whatever it is Sam’s put down for him to rut against.  
  
“Oh, that’s good.” The baton hits the ground with a clatter and then the hot hard length of Sam’s cock is in him. “I knew you could take it, take it like the whore you are, walking around just asking for trouble—” His words trail off into a series of thick grunts and Liam braces harder against the car as Sam buries himself balls-deep and then with one last groan shoots his load.  
  
The usual shared collapse of post-climax comedown doesn’t happen this time. Sam remains still but a moment as his cock softens before pulling out, a sticky mess dribbling down Liam’s thighs going ignored as Sam prioritizes getting the cuffs off Liam, letting them fall to the ground alongside the discarded baton before laying strong hands on Liam’s shoulders, loosening them back up from the position they’ve been pinned in.  
  
Liam feels—well. Certainly well and truly fucked out; he’s sure that without the hood of the car under him he’d have slithered to the ground by now. There’s the sensible voice in the back of his head that’s always present to remind him that it’s okay, they’re just acting out a very different kind of scene than usual. But the majority of his mind is still lost in how  _full-on_  that just was. Sure, they’ve played with toys before. He’s surprised Sam by having stretched and plugged himself before. They’ve done the cuffs and the rough and the public stuff. It’s putting it all together that makes him moan like he’s coming again.  
  
“Hey, sweetheart,” Sam murmurs in a far kinder tone. “You okay? Give me a color.”  
  
“Blue,” Liam says.  
  
“That’s not actually on the list, but I’ll take it.” Sam’s hands go away and there’s the sound of him buckling and zipping back up. A wet wipe takes care of most of the mess on Liam; the rest of it is on what indeed turns out to be a poncho, one in a navy tartan that’s probably quite nice when it’s clean. Liam’s aware enough to pull his own jeans back up and button them, even though the five-button fly is usually a nightmare to do. Sam bundles the poncho, cuffs, and baton into a plastic bag, stowing the lot in the backseat of the car (not even remotely a cop car, but in the dark it doesn’t matter) before rejoining Liam, who’s allowed himself to sit down on the nearest stack of wooden pallets.  
  
Sitting where he is, looking at Sam in the low light, he can at last appreciate the small details. The pale blue shirt is no longer tucked into the navy blue pants, one tail hanging out over the now empty holster where the baton hung. At Sam’s other hip is a pump bottle of lube. If he was wearing a tie it’s long gone. Liam doubts he bothered. His shoes are meticulously shined; Liam resists the urge to prostrate himself and kiss them. The navy blue pants bear familiar, if slightly ridiculous yellow stripes up the outer legs. A triangle patch on one shoulder displays the NJ State Police logo; Sam turns so Liam can see the Weehawken Police patch on the other shoulder (it also has a  _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_  patch below it, just in case anyone thought Sam was ever 100% serious about anything).  
  
And his nameplate does indeed say  _Officer Riegel_.  
  
“Thank you,” Liam says as Sam sits down beside him. Then, “Fucking hell.”  
  
“Yeah.” Sam puts his arm around Liam and kisses the side of Liam’s head. “All okay?”  
  
“I did  _not_  think when I told that story that you’d turn it into a sex fantasy at all, let alone one so intense.” A slow delicious shiver runs through Liam’s whole body. “God I love you when you’re authoritative.”  
  
Sam laughs awkwardly. “I was so sure I was going to fuck it up.”  
  
“You put so much effort in. I love it. Where the  _hell_  did you find a dildo shaped like a baton?”  
  
“Amazon.”  
  
“I can’t believe you put that in me.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you took it like the greedy little slut you are, didn’t you?” Sam observes in that scary too-calm voice, and Liam groans, the sound of Sam’s words sliding over his body and squeezing his groin.  
  
“Jesus, Sammy...”  
  
“I was scared I was pushing it too far. The whole scene, I mean. And you just kept taking it.”  
  
“It can’t all be clandestine handjobs in the studio bathrooms.”  
  
Sam looks around the high-roofed, echoing space. “Not when we have a whole loading dock to play with now.”  
  
“Public but not,” Liam agrees.  
  
“I know you like the danger,” Sam says almost dreamily, fingers stroking Liam’s upper arm. “I know you like the potential of being caught... or of having someone watch...”  
  
Liam whimpers softly; Sam’s really pushing all his buttons tonight. It’s almost terrifying to think about what else he might come up with, given free rein. But it’s exhilarating as well, in the same way that Sam caging him in with his body was.  
  
“Are your arms all right? Shoulders?”  
  
“Nothing dire.”  
  
“Could you have stayed there longer?”  
  
Liam considers the notion. “Maybe? I don’t know... how  _much_  longer?”  
  
“For a dangerous felon like you? Long enough to bring a few more of my squad in, just to be certain we can take you into proper custody without you doing any stupid shit.”  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Sam.” Liam’s body is wracked with another of those long slow shivers. Every time he thinks they’re done and the scene is over, Sam puts his thumb firmly on another one of his buttons.  
  
“Too much?” Sam’s voice returns to its normal register.  
  
“I’m thinking about you and Mercer playing good cop, bad cop. Except it’s more like bad cop, evil dragon cop.”  
  
“ _Oh_.” Sam sounds like he wasn’t expecting Liam to take to the idea. “Is... is that something you’d want?”  
  
“I—maybe? With everyone’s permission? And if I didn’t think Marisha would murder me?”  
  
“I think  _Officer Ray_  would be more than happy to give your mouth something to do. She might actually help you remain silent.”  
  
“ _Fuck_ , Sam,” Liam repeats, turning his head to nuzzle into the side of Sam’s neck. “Trust you to put the ‘and’ in ‘yes, and’.”  
  
Sam laughs a little awkwardly. “Yeah, well, I bet Ashley’s played disappointed parole officer with Brian before.”  
  
“I refuse to speculate about that,” Liam says with as much dignity as he can muster to cover up the fact that now he’s wondering if it were the two of them side by side, the rest of the group thoroughly working them over, who’d be the first to break and start begging for it to stop.  
  
“But you are,” Sam whispers before nipping his earlobe lightly.  
  
“Yeah. Yeah.”  
  
Sam kisses his earlobe, his temple, his cheek. “This wasn’t supposed to be an interrogation scene, but I think I just got a few interesting confessions out of you.”  
  
“Feel free to use them against me any time,  _Officer Riegel_.”


End file.
